


Coffee of Contention: the War of Caffeinated Interdependence

by ElizaStyx



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Coffee, Coffee Shops, Gerard really needs his coffee, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Modern AU, Pumpkin Spice Latte, QUALITY CONTENT, sort of, they literally fight over coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:12:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8201503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaStyx/pseuds/ElizaStyx
Summary: Coffee. The only thing that matters. Lifeblood in a glorious form. Truly the only thing that Gerard needs. And one that's right there, ready to be claimed. Oh, the whole heaven at his fingertips...That is, until this dude barges in and claims it as his own, shattering Gerard's whole world into pieces.This can only mean one thing. A war.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thanks to my perfect beta [Wingz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeWingz) who also helped come up with the title! Any and all remaining mistakes and awkwardness are my own doing. Please, love me anyway :D

Gerard needed his coffee to function, alright? It was just a fact of which nothing could be done. He really, really needed that dose of caffeine to start his morning and any other option was unacceptable. This is why it was his utter belief some deity was against him the first Monday of October. Nothing would ever be scared again.

His absolute favourite and ever-faithful kitchen appliance gave him only a small, sad blep of warning and then shut down with a hiss of steam. His precious coffee machine was dead. Gone. Off to the afterlife. What was even the point of continuing on? Gerard groaned, slapping the top of the machine without much hope. It didn’t help. Nothing could have helped. There was the urge to try anyway no matter the circumstances. It was just unbelieveable.

He sighed and took a look around his small kitchen. Supposedly he could grind the beans himself. The options were limited to his pepper mill or hammer, but he was willing to even use his own teeth, if all else failed. Anything, even an awful but drinkable brew, was better than no coffee. However, while his love for coffee was clearly a fully developed addiction, he also loved to savour his mug once in a while and boy, did that morning call for savouring. No, he had to have some **good** coffee.

Not really in a mood to give a single fuck anymore, Gerard grabbed his coat and, muttering flowery courses, went outside. Somewhere at the back of his mind he was aware that his hair was a mess and he had eye bags for miles but nothing was more important than the morning fix now. He needed to find someplace with proper coffee and he needed to find it soon.

The cold air hit him right in the face with vicious precision as soon as he left the building. Suddenly the idea of going back to have a very crappy drink sounded much more tempting. He has promised himself a treat, though, and nothing was going to stop him now. Clenching his jaw, Gerard curled into himself, trying to make himself smaller and less vulnerable to the chill. The closest coffee shop was just around the corner, he could do this. And so he did. The last traces of regret faded as he stepped into the warmth and the smell of freshly made pumpkin spice latte embraced him like his favourite blanket. Suddenly, the machine failure felt more like a blessing than a course. Gerard had totally forgotten that it was already the Halloween season. October, huh?

He stepped further inside to take a place in the queue, letting the atmosphere lull him into comfort. He placed his order absently and leaned against the nearest free table, waiting for his pumpkin spice latte to be made. Surely enough, the barista called “medium pumpkin spice latte to go!” and Gerard leaped towards the counter. Finally, his cup of nectar had arrived.

In his desperation to reach the barista’s offering of heaven, he collided with someone of significantly smaller stature at full velocity.

“What the hell, man?” The short one snapped him, staggering dangerously. The guy’s distress was easily ignored, though, in favor of the offering on the counter. Gerard didn’t even devote the other enough attention to give a reply.

His sight zeroed in on the steamy, fragrant cup in front of him. He reached out to take his desired drink and… someone slapped his hand.

“What the hell, dude?” That slap had actually hurt. With his eyebrows furrowed in confusion Gerard looked towards the other. He would maybe call him a fine piece of art under different circumstances, Gerard could appreciate all forms of craftmanship, after all. However, said piece of art was currently the only obstacle on his way to the nirvana and Gerard definitely did not appreciate **that**.

“This is my coffee.” said the dude firmly. He was looking at Gerard somehow fiercely with his arms crossed, tattoos peeking from underneath his sleeves and scarf.

“Bullshit, I ordered this.” Gerard took the cup of life off the counter and straightened his back to appear taller; the dude didn’t look nearly as full of respect as he should, in fact, he didn’t look as if he had any respect for Gerard at all. Annoying. “Pumpkin spice latte, medium, to go. It’s mine.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” The guy actually had the nerve to tear the cup out of Gerard’s grip; it was a miracle nothing spilled in the process. “This happens to be exactly my order too. And I was here first.”

It was in that moment Gerard realized that maybe this dude could have actually been the person he queued behind. At this point it was a matter of honour though. And caffeination. Nobody could stand in the way of Gerard being united with his coffee.

“But I was the first to pick it up.” He hissed and grabbed at the cup but the guy took a step back, protecting it with his arms. “I need it more than you do!” He made another attempt but the dude dodged his hands once again. This was war.

“I have never heard an argument that made less sense.” The dude jumped back further, barely avoiding a collision with a table. “Coffee’s mine, wait for yours patiently.”

Gerard growled and attacked once more, barely noticing that people were staring at them.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” The guy’s voice went high pitched as Gerard viciously jabbed at his sides; not that he approved of violence, but **coffee**. Every method was acceptable in this fight.

There was something hilarious in the desperation with which the man tried to both dodge the assault and not spill the latte; Gerard felt an odd pang of warmth in his heart, he could respect a man who loved his coffee this much. He almost thought about giving up and waiting. Now, though, this had gone a bit too far to take everything back.

One more time he reached for the cup and the man spinned around. Jumping forward, however, he met an inconveniently placed chair and staggered. For a while it seemed as if he was hanging frozen in the mid-air, eyes growing comically big in horror as his balance slipped away. The chair tipped over and the man definitely would have  followed, if Gerard, in some unbelievable manifestation of superpowers, didn’t grab him by the arms and pulled him back into vertical position. He just had quick reflexes when it came to saving coffee, okay?

And now he was standing there, looking from up close into the eyes of the man who had tried to deprive him of his coffee. His ultimate arch nemesis. The villain of this story. A guy who, at a closer inspection, was actually even cuter than Gerard thought earlier and kind of visibly more sleep deprived than him, which should have been impossible to achieve. Gerard gaped. The guy gaped back.

“You know what?” he finally said, his voice oddly silent.

“Huh?” Gerard found it somehow hard to focus on forming sentences.

“You can have the coffee, I’ll wait.”

Suddenly there was a warm cup being pushed into Gerard’s hands and even warmer fingers curling around his for a short while before their cold disappearance. With surprise, Gerard found out he felt actually disappointed. Looking down at the cup he fought for, he was quick to raise his eyes back up to find the other guy already gone. While watching the other, who had returned to the counter, he finally noticed the other people. They all looked at him with various levels of disapproval. He had a loud, cheeky ‘what?’ at the tip of his tongue but in the end he hadn’t said it. He hadn’t said anything. He actually felt stupid.

Slowly he made his way back and stopped by the guy’s side. The other pointedly didn’t look at him, staring intently at the big coffee machine the barista was working behind.

“So, uh…” begun Gerard and mentally cringed at the blush he felt creeping  up his cheeks. “I believe this is yours.” he held the cup out.

“I gave it to you.” The guy was still not looking at him. “It’s yours.”

“No, man, you were right, you were there first, I’m an asshole in the mornings.” Suddenly Gerard was overly aware that they were making even more of a scene now. However, with some morbid recklesness he continued to dig an even bigger hole for himself.

The guy scoffed silently.

“Okay, so maybe I’m generally an asshole, think what you want, just take the damn coffee.” Gerard started losing his patience once again.

“No.” The guy shook his head.

“I am giving this pumpkin spice latte to you, it’s yours now.” Gerard shoved the cup into the guy’s once again crossed arms; he didn’t make a move to take it.

“No.” The guy looked like he was barely holding back a triumphant smirk now and something inside Gerard boiled.

“Goddammit, I’m giving you **my coffee** , don’t you understand what that means? I might have as well been giving you my firstborn!” He raised his voice and the guy finally looked at him, his eyes gleaming in an odd way.

“First of all, you’re actually giving me back **my** coffee.” He sounded deeply amused. “And I’m still not going to take it.”

Gerard took a deep breath.

“Listen here, you little shit…” he begun, stepping closer to the man and making a gesture that almost got the coffee in question flying, but before he could give him a piece of his mind, the barista interrupted him.

“Medium pumpkin spice latte to go!” he announced, placing a freshly brewed cup on the counter somehow victoriously.

Gerard lost his trail of thought. He looked into the annoying guy’s eyes. The annoying guy looked back at him.

“I believe that’s me.” he said.

Gerard could only watch as the man marched towards the counter and picked up the cup. Frozen in the spot, he watched him pick a packet of brown sugar, put it all in and stir before taking the first sip. And he still only watched as the guy turned around and walked back to him to stop right there.

“I’m Frank.” he begun, his eyes again coming into Gerard’s focus. “And I have no fucking idea what are you staring at with such a fascination, nameless coffee addict, but I’d suggest we take a free table and discuss just that.”

An hour later, leaving the coffee shop with Frank’s number safely in his contact list, Gerard decided that this time the coffee machine failure indeed was a blessing. And that this pumpkin spice latte totally was The Shit.


End file.
